


Your Arms Are My Sanctuary

by vanessa_singer



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Cuddles, Destruction, Fluff, Hurt Steve Rogers, Insecure Steve Rogers, Lots of cuddles, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, and making out, bucky and steve deserve more, idk - Freeform, these two deserve all the love they can get
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 13:28:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7759555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanessa_singer/pseuds/vanessa_singer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve comes back from another mission with more cuts than he can count.  That's nothing new.</p><p>What's new is the surprise waiting for him when he comes home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Arms Are My Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven't posted anything in a really long time and I kinda wrote this on a whim. Hopefully it isn't as bad as I think it is!

Steve looks out onto the city.  There are fires burning everywhere, buildings toppled like Jenga towers, and survivors straggling along the streets looking for loved ones.

Steve hates this part.

Everyone loves to sugarcoat the truth.  Try to cover up the losses with the victories, explain to the sharks that they call reporters the basic facts of the situation.  The thing is, every time the team scores a win, Steve can't help but see the destruction they've caused, the lives they've shattered.  Ships filled with supplies have landed, and volunteers are working to fix the city.  But the thing is, there are still lives lost, memories and souls that can't be recovered.

Steve feels a hand on his shoulder, the Quinjet behind him whirring to life.  He can smell blood and smoke and desolation in the air.  Something that stays with him after every job.

"Steve, come on man, we gotta go."

Sams voice is soothing, empathetic.  He knows how Steve feels.  And he knows that he needs to get him out of there.  The rest of the team is already loaded on, but Steve is still standing on the ramp.  When he turns to Sam, he sees a gash stretching from his temple to his chin, dried blood scattering his skin.  Natasha and Clint looked battered up as well, and Thor had left right after the battle.  Tony sets his beat up helmet on a shelf, and instructs the plane's system to start preparing for a return flight.  

"Is there anything else we can do for them?"

The question is the same every time.  Probably Steve trying to repent for the sins he thinks he's committed.  And every time, Sam answers: "We've done enough, Steve.  Time to go."

The ride back is spent in silence.  At one point, Natasha and Clint take over the autopilot, and Tony starts fiddling with his suit and fixing up the damage.  Sam keeps a comforting hand on Steve's shoulder, and Steve looks off and drowns in his thoughts.  How his team is suffering through it all, even if they win.  Of the people's lives they've changed for the worse.  Of the things that will never be fixed, whether they are memories or homes.

When they get back to the Tower, Steve doesn't bother sticking around for long.  He tells the team to go ahead and relax, and final reports are due tomorrow.  Making his way to his floor, he strips off his helmet, gloves, anything that feels constricting to his body and tosses them onto the floor of his living room when he gets there.  The only thing he does look forward to after these missions is getting to cuddle with Bucky or fuck for hours on end.  

When he reaches his bedroom, he's stripped down to nothing but his boxers.  He knows Bucky will chide him for leaving his clothes everywhere, but he can deal with that later.  His only focus is on getting to Bucky.

And when he does, it's a sight to behold.

The room is dark save for the numerous candles (fucking _candles_ ) casting soft shadows everywhere.  There's the mild scent of vanilla ( _maybe lavender?_ ) in the air, but nothing nauseating.  On the bed there looks to be a new sheet set, and in the middle is Bucky blinking up at him wearing nothing but _tight black briefs_.

"Hey Stevie."

Immediately Steve is focusing on Bucky, on his soft, messy hair and his rough voice and his beautiful fucking mouth.  The only thought going through Steve's mind is  _I want this man to do anything and everything to me_.

" _Buck_."

The tension encasing Steve's body falls away like his clothes had moments ago.  He crawls onto the bed, nuzzling the side of Bucky's face, trying to memorize every breath the man below him takes.

"Was wondering when you would get back.  The candles might've burned out had you come later."

That startles a small, soft chuckle from Steve, who's still trying to push himself against Bucky in every way possible.  His whole body is aching for touch, his brain is still trying to bring back the burdens from before, and Bucky just keeps talking.

Brushing his hand through the short hair at the back of Steve's head, Bucky murmurs, "You left your stuff all over the living room again, didn't you?"  

Steve still doesn't say anything, just pushes his face into the junction where Bucky's neck meets his shoulder and runs his hand over the solid planes of his chest.  

"What do you need, baby?"

Steve stills, his fingers curling into a fist on Bucky's stomach, and his mind goes into overdrive, providing glimpses of his worries.  Bucky feels Steve curl in on himself, a low whimper escaping him and his legs coming up to meet his torso.  Bucky is instantly pulling Steve's face to his, plastering his lips to his partners as he unfurls the cocoon Steve's body has made.  

He first starts with his legs, pushing them down so he can pull Steve against his side.  Then his fingers, prying them away so he can soothe the half-moons in his palm.  Pulling him over his body, Bucky gets a sturdy grip on each side of Steve face so he can take over from there.

Bucky gently rolls them over, his lips glued to Steve's as he slowly draws his bottom lip in with his teeth.  He tends to the plush skin between his lips, sucking and biting until it's swollen red.  Then the brunet seals his mouth over the man's, delving his tongue in and exploring the hot nooks that make up Steve Rogers' mouth.

Bucky can't get over the needy little whimpers and moans of relief that Steve keeps releasing; swallows them like a little kid with his tongue out on a rainy day.  He lets his tongue swipe across the blond's, starts gently stroking one hand through his hair and the other becomes tangled with his hand.  Steve adjusts so their fingers can properly interlock together and holds on for dear life, letting his mouth open and close in response to Bucky, letting his mind do nothing but absorb the short breaths and odd curses that the brunet releases.

When Bucky tilts his head to the opposite side, it's to press kisses all over Steve's face.  He starts at the corner of the blond's mouth, works his way up his cheek and over forehead.  Then it's back down the other side, finishing right where he had started.  He feels Steve's breath even out, his body practically melting under his as he releases Bucky's hand in favor of tangling them in his hair, face turning in for more kisses.

It's only when the pair hear the boom of construction come to life next door that they break away, startled out of their haze.  Both of their heads are encircled by mussed-up hair, their eyes out of focus and lips wet and cherry red.  Bucky mutters something about getting someone to look after the candles while standing up and dragging Steve with him.  Though Steve really doesn't want to move, he lets his best friend drag him to his bedroom, where the bed is unused ever since Bucky moved into a room with Steve.  Bucky pulls back the covers, ungracefully falls onto the bed with Steve following suit, and then tugs the blankets up to their chins.

"Thank you, Buck."  Steve reaches up and runs his hand through Bucky's hair, setting back into it's original position.

Bucky just smiles shyly, pulling Steve's hand away so he can press a kiss into the palm.  "Anything for you, doll."

They remain pressed up to each other for the rest of the night (day? afternoon? Neither know nor care).  Bucky doesn't let go of Steve, and Steve burrows down into Bucky's arms and dozes lightly against his collarbone, mumbling nonsense and letting his mind rest.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, don't be afraid to comment constructive criticism or questions. I am open to prompts since I don't have a lot of outlets for inspiration.


End file.
